Harry Potter and the Forest of Change
by stormcrow007
Summary: During the summer after fifth year, Deatheaters attack Privet Drive. Harry survives, but must make his way through a deadly forest by himself if he is to survive. People change, in the forest.
1. Chapter 1

Daddy's Got a Gun

All was well in the peaceful, normal suburb of Little Whinging, and all were enjoying the summer holidays. All save one, that is. This boy, perhaps a man, never enjoyed his summer's, but _this_ one was worse than most. He had just lost the closest person to a father he had ever known. And he believed it was his fault. Many had tried to tell him differently, but he didn't listen.

_Yeah, that is a problem of mine. I never listen. Maybe if I did, Sirius would still be alive. Hermione tried to tell me it was a trap, but did I listen? No..._

Lost in thoughts such as these, Harry Potter was staring out the window from the smallest bedroom of Number 4. He took solace in the rain that fell, as it reflected the bleakness of his soul.

"Boy, get down here and set the table for dinner. Your Aunt has cooked a wonderful roast, and we are allowing you to partake out of the goodness of our hearts. So do your share, or you won't get any." Uncle Vernon bellowed up the stairs.

_Hey, looks like Moody's threat actually worked, I'm actually going to get fed this time..._

Harry slowly ambled his way down the stairs and into the kitchen, and set the table for four people. His Aunt had just pulled out a surprisingly well cooked meal and prepared to serve it. Harry took only a little bit of the food, seeing as he wasn't really hungry. He had lost his appetite after the Department of Mystery's escapade. He was pulled out of his morose thoughts by the sharp voice of his Aunt.

"I'm sorry Aunt Petunia, could you repeat that?"

Petunia huffed, as if repeating herself was a terrible affront. "I said, is there any danger from that Voldethingy man, the one who killed your parents. I heard that he came back and is looking for you. Are we in danger because of you?"

Harry, in his noble and self-sacrificing way, believed that everyone associated with him ran the risk of dieing and he was responsible for it. So he answered "Most likely. He's tries to kill me every time he gets the chance, and people who are near me usually get hurt." Harry's tone was so matter of fact, not to mention unemotional, that even Vernon noticed it.

"So, this is how you repay us for our kindness of letting you live here, giving you food off of our table, by bringing a murdering terrorist down on our heads. I won't stand for it! Get out of our house, get out!" By the end of this, Vernon's faced had reached a dangerous red.

"If you did try and throw me out, the Headmaster of my school would probably stuff me back in here with you, and use his...freakishness...on you to make sure that I stayed. You don't want that, I don't want that, so it looks like I have to stay."

Silence met this statement, and the silence continued for some time, only interrupted by the clinking of silverware and plates, and the sound of eating.

Harry, once again thinking, felt that he had to help his 'family' in whatever way he could, so he said "You know, it wouldn't be a bad idea if you guys got some guns or something. My kind die just the same if you put a bullet in their head."

Vernon stared at his nephew, clearly thinking things through. True, his freaky nephew did make the suggestion, but it made sense. Practicality and hate warred in his tiny brain, until the safety of his family won out.

"Dudders, what kind of gun do you want? I've got my fathers old 12 gauge, and you need something to defend the family."

"I want a desert eagle, that's a gun that a real man uses."

Seeing as the Dursley's had taken his advice, Harry made his way up to his room, where he eventually fell asleep, and dreamed of fluttering curtains and haunting voices.

1 WEEK LATER

Harry was, once again, staring out the window of his bedroom. It was very late at night, about four in the morning, but he was still up. He had been thinking about death, and killing, and had recently reached an epiphany. He could kill someone, and enemy, and it didn't effect him a lot. He had read about how people mourned and cried when they killed in battle, but he was pretty sure that didn't happen to him.

You wouldn't know it, but Harry had a lot of hate stored in his system. He hated his 'family', but he hated Voldemort and his Deatheaters a whole lot more. They had taken everything from him. His family, his friends, _his future..._

The weight of the prophecy on his shoulders, and with it, the whole world, and life had never been so bleak for Harry. Speaking of the prophecy, he didn't mind the fact that he had to kill, the snake faced bastard needed to be put down, and if Harry had to do it, then so be it. It wouldn't be the first time he killed someone.

Hell, he killed a man with his bare hands when he was only 11 years old. Did he care? Hell no. Harry snorted, he doubted he would have trouble killing his enemy's, they likely wouldn't either.

Harry gasped out loud when a burning sting of his scar was all the warning he had that a vision was coming.

_He was standing in front of a sea of people, all robed in black with masks of white. He could smell their fear, but also their respect. How he loved what he did._

"_Ah, Draco. Did you do perform the requisite rituals necessary to receive your mark?"_

"_Of course, master. I tortured and killed the needed five muggles, showing them the superiority of wizards."_

"_Good, good. You know that I can here through any of my followers marks, all Deatheaters know that. But did you know I can hide it? The mark is based off parseltongue, and only I can make it disappear. You will still have it, but that muggle loving fool of a Headmaster won't be able to see it. True, I won't be able to hear what other's around you say, but that is a necessary precaution. Come, receive my mark."_

_Draco walked forward, almost shaking with fear, but he held it in. Only through Leglimancy could he sense the overwhelming terror the boy felt. It was good to be on top._

"_After this, we will attack the Potter brat. Lucius, get your best squad ready, we attack soon. I possess the boys blood, so the blood wards are of no matter to me. That boy has seen his last sunrise."_

_Raucous laughter met these words._

Harry gasped, he had to warn the Order. He couldn't a letter right now, because Hedwig was out, but he could hope. He grabbed a piece of nearby parchment, and shakily began to write.

_Dear Order._

_I want to thank you for getting me that exemption for underage magic, it allows me to practice so I can defend myself better._

_I just received a scar vision, and the Deatheaters plan on attacking me soon. I don't know when, and I hope..._

Harry's scare flared up once more, but it was a different kind of pain. The one made when the Dark Lord was physically near.

Harry swore as he grabbed his wand and stumbled down the hall to his Uncles room. He banged on the door, hoping his Uncle would get up.

"What? What the fuck is the meaning of waking me up at this blasted hour?" His Uncle quietly screamed, which was quite the accomplishment.

"Get your gun, we've got evil freaks on the front lawn."

His uncle seemed shocked, but began to get a move on, waddling over to his closet. Harry was already moving towards Dudley's room, and woke him up.

"Get up you fat piece of shit. Get your gun, some evil people are coming for me. They'll kill you if we don't get them first."

Harry ran back into his room, and wrote on the letter for the Order. It said "_Shit. Tom's here"_

Dudley started to move faster than he had ever before. _Death threats do actually make him move, who would have thought it? _Harry idly mused as he worked his way into the kitchen, and flipped over the table for cover. His uncle moved it into the hall, in front of the door, and hunkered down behind it, still clad in his night clothes. Dudley took up position on the stairs. Harry stood out in the open, hoping to draw fire towards himself.

With a swish of a cloak and a muted crack, Deatheaters began apparating onto the Dursley's lawn. There were ten of them, plus the Dark Lord himself. Voldemort snaked his way forward, calling out to Harry.

"Harry my boy, surely you can see that it is useless to resist? I can come through these oh so powerful blood wards, and your beloved old fool can't stop me. Join me, Harry, and we can rule the world together. Join me, and I'll spare all your friends."

Harry answered the only way he could "Shut the fuck up, you half blood freak."

Voldemort took offense for some reason, and ordered his servants to kill the boy. Lucius Malfoy lead to charge into the house. As soon as the door opened, Vernon stuck his head over the table, and a mammoth BOOM sounded through the night. His twelve gauge tore apart Lucius' chest, leaving a gaping whole filled with chunks of his body.

The Deatheaters, having quickly stopped charging through the door after that, began to rain down curses upon the three defenders. Harry quickly moved out of the way as a curse sizzled past him, raising the hairs on the back of his neck as it passed. He could hear the cracking of Dudley's handgun and the booming of the twelve gauge as he dodged incoming hexes.

Thinking quickly, he summoned his Aunt's cutting knife collection from the counter top, and banished them at high speed towards a nearby foe. Rabastan Lestrange managed to deflect some of them, but there were just too many, too fast. He took a knife to the throat, and fell with a bloody gurgle.

Harry rolled under another curse, and put his back to a wall, hoping to take stock of the situation.

_Alright, I only saw ten Deatheaters come in, plus Tom, and I've killed one, and there are four more dead bodies out there. We might actually survive this._

Just as that last thought worked it's way through his head, he saw something that would haunt his dreams. Voldemort summoned Uncle Vernon's table, and hit him with a cutting curse, right in the stomach. His uncle screamed and tried to put his entrails back inside himself.

Dudley let out a wounded howl when he saw his father dieing, and did something stupid and heroic. Dudley charged out the front door, taking several curses as he went, firing as quick as his pudgy fingers would allow. He killed one Deatheater before he fell, but also managed to nail Voldemort in the shoulder, who hissed in pain.

Harry took advantage of the lull in the fighting to banish the refrigerator at Bellatrix Lestrange, and hit her dead on, shattering most of the bones in her body.

Voldemort, seeing he had lost most of his attacking force, signaled for a retreat. The Deatheaters aimed one last curse at the Boy-Who-Lived, and disapparated. Harry got extremely unlucky when he dodged a severing hex, but it hit his wand, cutting it in two.

_No time for that, I need to get out of here, in case they come back. _ Harry thought to himself. He was bleeding from several minor injuries, mostly caused by flying debris. He looked at his Uncle, the man who had forced him to live in a cupboard for ten long years, and took every chance he could to belittle him, dieing on the floor of his own house.

Harry knelt down next to him, and took his hand in his own. His uncle's squinted eyes looked back up at him, and he heard his uncle whisper one last thing to him.

"Kill all those freaks, boy. That's all I ask."

With those parting words, the pressure from his uncles grasp ended, and the light faded from his eyes. Harry stared at him for a few seconds, before he remembered his new purpose. He took up his uncle's shotgun, and began working his way out of the wreckage. He knelt by Dudley's cooling corpse, pausing only long enough to close his vacant eyes, and take his desert eagle. As he was leaving, he heard labored breathing coming from his left.

Harry worked his way over, and saw Bellatrix pinned under the fridge, evidently in a lot of pain.

"Aw, its ittle bittle baby Potter. What's the matter, scared of little old me? You don't have to guts to kill me, boy."

Harry looked down at the crazed women who had cost him his godfather, and placed his new shotgun against her forehead.

"This is for Sirius, bitch."

A deafening boom echoed through the still morning air, and brain matter was sprayed across the freshly mowed lawn. Harry Potter walked away from Number Four, leaving total destruction behind. Smoke rose from the mangled house, and water sprayed from a broken pipe.

Harry trudged his way and walked into a nearby forest, just as the sun rose above the horizon, giving the sky a blood tinged visage.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Right, forgot to include one of these last chapter. Read and review, plx.

Sorry about the update time, what with finals and Christmas crap and stuff. Still, I got a nice big chapter for you, I even wrapped it with a bow and put it under your tree. Don't expect another update for a little while, I have plans and stuff, but it might happen. Peace out.

Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape, or form own Harry Potter. I'm a poor bastard, leave me alone.

(This disclaimer applies to all chapters, duh)

The Times are Changing

Percy Weasley was walking through the narrow halls of the Ministry of Magic, humming a jaunty tune from the Wireless. It was a good day to be Percy. He had seen his boss, Minister Fudge, berate three people for incompetence, and it wasn't even noon! _Yes,_ Percy thought, _It is definitely a good day._

Of course, when one thinks thoughts like that, something is bound to happen. In this case, a loud wailing siren was heard coming from the Department of Major Magic Detection. Percy upped his pace, striding quickly and decisively through the forming crowd.

"Excuse me, make way, Minister's personal aid coming through."

"Good, someone here needs to tell Fudge about his. We just detected an enormous amount of dark magic coming from the residence of one Harry James Potter." a Tech operator informed Percy.

_Stupid boy's probably performing ghastly rituals or something._ Percy thought.

"Thank you, I'm heading to the Minister's office now."

Percy moved as fast as he could while still maintaining the dignity required. He burst into Fudge's office, who was playing with a rubber band for some reason.

"Minister, we just detected a large quantity of dark magic coming from Potter's house."

"Interesting. Send some Auror's down to arrest the foolish boy for underage magic usage." Fudge said, not looking up from his desk.

"Err...Sir, we gave the Potter boy a waiver from that decree, following advice from Dumbledore."

"Damn him! Of course, he would have a dastardly plan like this. Get the boy out of Ministry control, than have him become the next Dark Lord. Just what we need. Send in a whole squadron of Aurors, shoot first, ask questions later." Fudge exclaimed, red faced.

"On it, sir!"

Percy quickly left the opulent office, striding towards Amelia Bones' wing, where he could contact the aurors.

"Mrs. Bones, we have a situation. Minister Fudge has ordered a squad of your best aurors to the home of Harry Potter, where we detected a spike of dark magic." Percy gravely announced, doing his best to convey the seriousness of the situation.

Amelia Bones quickly put her wand to her throat, muttered _sonorous_, and yelled "Shacklebolt! Get in here, and tell your squad to suit up!"

Shacklebolt stepped into the office, still pulling on his dragonhide vest. "You called?"

Here, Percy cleared his throat, and stood up pompously. "The Minister has ordered a squad of the best aurors to the residence of Mr. Potter, where a surge of dark energy was detected. What are you waiting for, hop to it!"

Shacklebolt quickly strode out of the office, yelling to his aurors that they had a code black situation, until he reached the fireplace. Taking a handful of floo powder, he flung it in the fire, calling out "Albus Dumbledore!"

"Ah, what can I do for you today, Kingsley?" Dumbledore's smiling face said as it appeared in the green flames of the fire.

"Albus, we have a code black situation at Harry's house, you and Moody should get there quickly."

Dumbledore's face looked worried, and he nodded, and closed the floo connection.

Kingsley strode out to his squad of twenty aurors, who were awaiting instructions.

"Men, we have received orders about a large amount of dark magic detected at the house of Harry Potter. We head out now."

The aurors, the ministry's best, nodded, before disapparating in a rapid fire series of bangs and cracks.

Albus Dumbledore, the world's most respected wizard, had a pensive look on his face, as he examined the instruments that were monitoring Harry's house. He couldn't understand why they hadn't picked up the intrusion on the wards, they were based on Harry's blood. Anyone who didn't have that blood couldn't cross them without his permission. Which meant only one thing.

Harry Potter was practicing dark magic. Dumbledore sighed, he had hoped it wouldn't come to this. He had tried to guide the boy, but he was too headstrong. And now he had fallen to the dark. Albus couldn't allow the hope of the wizarding world to fall, so it was up to him, and him alone, to prevent it.

With a decisive nod, he strode out of his office and worked his way past the wards of Hogwarts, and disappeared with a crack.

Fawkes simply shook his head at Dumbledore's foolishness and arrogance. _He didn't think this way before, what happened to the man?_ Fawkes let out a sorrowful lament of phoenix song, mourning the loss of his old friend, before disappearing in a flash of flame.

Albus appeared in a whirl of robes, and looked at a seen of pure carnage. Blood was splattered all over the place, not to mention some bone fragments and brain matter. He shuddered, what could possibly drive the boy to such violence?

He saw the squadron of aurors were also staring in shock at the house, which was half caved in, and made his way over to them.

"What's going on here?"

"Albus, I've never seen anything like this. Look, there are bodies of several Deatheaters here. See, the one with a knife in his throat is Rabastan Lestrange. And Malfoy had his guts blown out. Look, we think that's Bellatrix, under the fridge, but we can't be sure, it looks like her head was destroyed. Albus, what kind of dark magic could do this?"

"I don't know. Not even Voldemort is this vicious. Anything else?"

"We found the bodies of two muggles, we think they're Harry's relatives. The younger one was hit with all kinds of curses. The older one took a cutting curse to the stomach, he died slowly and painfully."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "You know he had an aunt, right? Did you find her?"

"Yeah, she's being treated for shock, the healers are thinking she won't speak again. We think her brain overloaded or something."

Dumbledore sighed. So much violence and death. Harry had to be stopped before he killed more innocent people. "I'm calling an Order meeting tonight, please be there."

With a swish and a muted pop, Dumbledore headed to headquarters.

**AT HEADQUARTERS**

**7:00 PM**

Three teenagers were sitting in a single room. Two were playing chess, one was reading.

"So Ron, what do you want to do this summer?" the brown haired witch asked.

"I dunno. Eating and sleeping sounds like a plan." The redheaded man answered, not looking up from the chessboard.

"Bad idea, Ron. Should've kept your mouth shut, look at Hermione, she looks ready to breath fire."

Indeed, Hermione did look like she could spit fire at the moment. Before she could tear a new hole into Ron, they heard Mrs. Weasley calling them down for dinner.

"Thank god, saved by mum. Ow..." Ron said, until Hermione and Ginny smacked him upside the head.

They waltzed down the stairs into the dining room, where the heavenly aroma of food awaited. Ron's mouth was already watering.

They sat down next to one another, and looked around the table. Most people looked happy, but some looked rather somber. Ron looked ready to dive head first into the sheppard's pie his mother had made.

"Normally, I would wait until the children have left the room before discussing the war. However, something has come to light that needs to be brought to everyone's intention. Harry Potter has gone dark." Gasps where heard around the table as the headmaster made this statement. "Kingsley, please report."

"We received a call to investigate a large amount of dark magic detected at his house. When we got there, we saw possibly the most brutal crime scene I've ever seen. There were nine dead bodies, all of them killed in unpleasant manners. Albus?"

"Yes, I'll take over here. As you know, I put up blood wards around Mr. Potter's house, and they won't let anyone in who would wish him harm, and they are powered by his blood. Obviously, Harry led a group of deatheaters across the wards and killed his relatives, and then, for some unknown reason, killed them in a brutal fashion. After executing several people, he snapped his wand and left."

Hermione Granger, widely regarded as the brightest witch of her age, was doing some quick thinking. She wasn't as blind as Ron or Harry, and had picked up on some disturbing things. However, her trust in authority figures had just been shattered. She knew Harry would never go dark.

Looking back at their years of school, she saw how purposefully negligent Dumbledore had been. First year, he placed the sorcerer's stone in the school, behind a series of traps that first years, could, and did, get past. There were so many other ways to hide it that would have prevented it from being reached. It was like he wanted to test Harry or something. Not to mention the fact that he missed the fact that Voldemort was sticking out the back of a teacher's head.

Second year, he had to know what was happening around the school. The wards would have told him as such. And then, when Fawkes showed up to help Harry, he did it at just the right moment. Lucky? Probably not.

Third year, he should have known about Sirius and Pettigrew. He was James Potter's confidant, for Merlin's sake.

Fourth year, he definitely should have noticed Crouch acting as Moody. They were old friends. Only an idiot could have missed that.

Fifth year, why the fuck had he placed Harry with Snape for occlumency? She normally respected teachers, but Snape didn't teach. He belittled his students, nothing more.

All in all, she had reached a breaking point, and had to say something. So she did.

"You're a fucking idiot, you know that?"

Gasps were again heard around the table, not only because of what was said, as no one ever insulted the headmaster, but who said it. Hermione Granger swore.

"Now, Ms. Granger, what do you mean by that?" Dumbledore said, after blinking a few times.

"I mean you aren't looking at the facts and are jumping to irrational conclusions. In short, you're a fucking idiot. Let me explain. The blood wards are based on Harry's blood, right?" At Dumbledore nod, she continued. "Well, if you had listened to Harry after fourth year, you would know that Voldemort carries the same blood. Which makes it highly probable that _he_ led an assault on Privet Drive, bypassing those wards, and Harry likely fought them. Maybe his Uncle and cousin simply got in the way. But to say that Harry's gone dark from the evidence you have, it's just plain fucking stupid."

Silence met this diatribe, until Dumbledore said "Ms. Granger, your loyalty towards your friend is remarkable and commendable, but you must realize that he isn't the Harry you knew anymore. He has fallen, it is the only explanation."

Hermione looked at Ron, who was staring at the headmaster with revolt and disbelief, and Ginny, who looked ready to curse him, and she left, quickly followed by the other two. She coudn't resist one last parting shot.

"You'll regret this. Harry would never go dark. Look at what he's done in his life. He hasn't shown an ounce of evil. From now on, stay the fuck out of our lives, you foolish old man."

**IN A FOREST, NEAR PRIVET DRIVE**

Harry was walking through some trees, thinking about his life. He wasn't happy about it.

_I really need to go to Gringotts, they should have my parents will. They also probably have Sirius's, if he made one. Once I know what the will says, well, I can go from there. Yeah, 'cause I somehow get the feeling that I wasn't meant to be at the Dursley's. My mum should've known her own sister, enough to know how much she would hate me._

_But Dumble-fucking-dore, he has to have done some illegal shit with me. He probably had monitoring devices or something, to show how I was, and he didn't do anything when I needed help. Fucker. Then theres all the shit that happened at school, that can't have been coincidence._

Harry was so caught up in his thoughts that he wasn't watching where he was going. Thus, his foot got caught under a tree root and he fell face first onto the unforgiving ground. And his glasses broke.

_Fuck._

So, Harry, alone and damn near blind, without a wand, fumbled his way along the ground until he found a large, sturdy tree to sit against. Harry hadn't cried since he was three years old, he had long learned against it, but he just couldn't hold it in anymore. He was alone, hungry, cold, and he couldn't see or do magic, and was somewhere in the woods. So he cried. He released the pent up emotions of nearly thirteen years of hardship, abuse, turmoil, and now, betrayal.

It wasn't long before Harry fell asleep lying against that tree, in the woods, alone, but his dreams were oddly innocent. That was almost enough to startle him awake, as he hadn't had a good dream after the Department of Mysteries.

Harry awoke some time later, sighing as he did. That was the best sleep he'd had in a long time. He gave a mental grin when the thought '_Maybe killing people helps me sleep' _drifted across his brain. Stretching as he stood, he once again cursed fate.

He froze when he heard a sinister rustling coming from the tree above him. He thought he saw a man shaped object in it, but he couldn't be sure. Until it spoke.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, wizard. Of course, you won't be here long, no, not long."

If the man was looking for some sort of reaction, he didn't get it. Harry just stood there, squinting, trying to make him out.

"Do I know you? I generally know everybody who makes death threats, but I can't see well at the moment."

The man hissed, overlong fangs bared, before he swooped down on Harry. Startled by this swift attack, Harry fell to the ground, inadvertently causing the vampire to miss a killing blow with his hidden blade.

Harry turned to run, stumbling along, but was quickly caught. The vampire grabbed him from behind, and sunk his elongated teeth right into Harry's neck. Harry cried out, but the pain forced his mind into overdrive, and he quickly reached for Dudley's gun. As he pulled it out of his pocket, his fingers caught on a branch lying on the ground.

Quickly seizing it, he thrust it at his attacker, trying to push him away. For some reason, the vampire attacking him was visibly weakening, his eyes widening in horror for some unknown reason. Harry, never one to question providence, swung his pistol around and fired off a round. It impacted the branch still in his hand, before burying itself in the chest of his target.

The vampire fell back, clutching his gaping chest, which was slowly closing itself shut. _Regenerative __properties, forgot about those._ Fate smiled on Harry though, as the vampire's eyes clouded over in death.

Harry grabbed his attackers sword, not paying attention to how elaborate and decorative it was. He stumbled off, rubbing the twin holes in his neck, wondering if Hogwarts would still let him go back. _If I go back._

Harry didn't notice, but he was covered in blood, and was still bleeding. He hadn't noticed yet, but it was a full moon out, which means only one thing.

_Werewolf, shit. Fuck, fucking motherfucker!_

Harry turned around, hoping against hope to somehow see his new enemy. He heard it before he saw it, but that wasn't enough warning. He brought his arm up, which was still holding his new sword, trying to fend off the frenzied manbeast.

Unfortunately, the wolf simply bit down on his arm, which hurt like a bitch. Harry screamed, and drew his uncle's shotgun. He quickly pointed it at the furry shape and squeezed the trigger. The booming overshadowed any other noise, so he didn't notice that the vampire's sword shattered under the impact, parts embedding themselves in his target.

The wolf howled in pain, but it's regenerative abilities were quickly closing up the gaping wound. Harry didn't notice it, as he ran away, but the werewolf was dieing, it's breathing labored, spit falling from it's gaping mouth.

Harry managed to get away, but his own breath was coming hard, a stitch already in his side. He fell backwards onto the cold ground, gazing up at the stars, looking for one he knew would be there.

_Sirius. The dog star. I'm coming, Padfoot. Can't wait to see Mum and Dad..._

Harry almost passed out, but right before he did, he saw a brilliant flash of red and gold, followed by a song of pure hope. He passed out, and didn't dream a single thing.

Harry awoke, groggily looking around, before he realized he still couldn't see. Sighing, he sat up, before it hit him. _Why do I feel so good? Hell, I haven't felt this good in...well, ever!_

"_That's probably because of me."_

Harry swung his head around, trying to locate the source of the new voice.

"_I'm over here, you nitwit._" Harry then realized he coudn't here the voice coming from anywhere, it was like it was directly in his head. _Great, now I can hear voices in my head. Guess I really am crazy._

"_My voice may be in your head, but you aren't crazy. Well, not a lot. You still don't know who I am?"_

Harry just shook his head.

The voice seemed to sigh. _"It's Fawkes, Harry. The phoenix. And no, before you ask, I'm not with Dumbledore anymore. I've realized what he has become, and he no longer is worthy bonding material. But you...you and I are already more closely bonded than any pair before us. I bonded with you while you rested, after tending to your wounds._

_You are an interesting human, you know that? After all you went through, it is remarkable that we can stand each other. Most humans would have cracked by now, gone around the bend. Not you though. Too strong, like folded steel. You have a dangerous destiny, and I vow to do all I can to help you achieve it."_

Harry, who had just realized that he wasn't dead, wasn't going to die, and was now bonded to Dumbledore's phoenix, just sighed.

"Right, well, moving on. What does it mean that you and I bonded?"

"_It means that I can actually talk with you, like I am now. It also means that I will protect and help you. But enough talk, how are you feeling?"_

"Great, actually. Better than in a long time, maybe ever." Harry said, once again cursing his vision.

"_That's probably because I released the bindings on your magical core. They were placed there to help you control the immense power you were given. And before you ask, yes Dumbledore knew about them, he was supposed to take them off when you turned eleven. If you were to use a wand now, you would risk destroying a lot of property._

_I can help you learn to use your magic again, if you want. No, you don't need a wand, for a couple of reasons. One, you have so much magic that a wand actually limits you, and two, you actually have a remarkable focusing tool already with you. Your blood is possibly the most magically strong substance on the planet. Not only does it contain your magical birthright, it also contains the lingering magic from your mother's protection, some basilisk venom from second year, and a whole lot of residual phoenix magic, from my tears._

_So, in essence, you can perform wandless magic, seeing as your blood will serve as an amplifier for it."_

Harry just lay there, absorbing all this new information, before a risky and dangerous idea popped in his head. Before Fawkes could object, Harry pointed his fingers at his eyes, and muttered "Reparo."

Harry, for the first time in his life, felt something that all other magic users felt. He felt a rush, a power in his veins. This was different for each individual witch or wizard, and very private. Harry just chalked up his lack of feeling as something to do with being the Boy-Who-Lived.

In Harry's case, he felt as though a phoenix was singing right into his heart, he was filled with such hope and warmth that he didn't want to stop casting, but he knew he had to. Such a thing was dangerous, one of many ways to fall into dark magic.

He hadn't noticed it while he was trying to repair his sight, but his eyes were stinging. After about a minute, that subsided, and he opened his eyes. An onslaught of colors invaded his mind, but he finally realized he could see.

_About time. About fucking time._

Harry looked around, and saw Fawkes sitting on a tree, and focused in on him. Immediately, a wavy set of colored lines added itself on top of his new sight, and Fawkes was surrounded by a white and gold glow.

"Um, do you have any idea why you look white and gold?" Harry asked the bird.

If a phoenix could look surprised, Fawkes sure did. He nearly fell out of his tree.

"_You have magesight! How extraordinary, no one has had it since the founders. To think, the secret was so obvious, using magic to repair eyes, it makes sense that they could then see magic."_

"Right. I'm just going to roll with this. So, I thought that vampires and werewolves were considered dark creatures, and you are epitomize the light, so how could you bond with me?"

"_Two reasons. First, werewolves and vampires are not dark creatures, though many think of them that way. Second, even if they were, I could still bond with one, it just wouldn't be as strong as it could be. And finally, you aren't either."_

Harry stared at the bird, wondering if he was going insane. _If I am, might as well go along with it. Maybe it's 'the power Mr. Wanker knows not'._

"So, how'd that work out?"

"_A most extraordinary set of circumstances, even for you. The latent basilisk venom in your bloodstream attacked the transforming agent of both creatures when it entered your blood. Then, when I healed your wounds, the magic from my tears destroyed them. However, I was too late to prevent all changes from happening._

_However, I think you'll be pleased with your marvelous luck. No one has ever conducted studies on how the transformation process takes place, mostly because it's nearly instantaneous. However, the venom slowed it down, and we now know what happens._

_The magic from the attacker forces the target's body to undergo certain changes that make it possible for the target to become like the attacker. For vampires, the unearthly grace and speed is necessary, for werewolves, the superhuman strength and senses._

_The transformations had completed this stage of the process when I arrived. Everything afterwards was stopped. In this case, the harmful side affects. In case your brain has stopped working, I'll lay it out simple for you._

_You have the speed and grace of a vampire, the strength and senses of a werewolf, and all without the harmful downsides. No transforming, no bloodlust. Not to mention the nice physical changes your body went through to adapt to the new changes. You look like an 18 year old body builder crossed with an Olympic athlete. Lucky bastard._

Harry looked at Fawkes, resignation on his face. _Yet ANOTHER reason I'm different. Great..._

He quickly conjured a mirror to look at himself, amazed at the ease of it. He looked at himself in the full length piece of glass, taking in his new body. He stood at 6'2'', and looked magnificent. And he was being modest.

He had somehow lost his shirt, and couldn't stop looking at his chest, which was chiseled like a Greek statue. Then he sighed, and picked himself up. Looking around, his eyes stopped on his weapons. He had an idea, and figured it was worth trying.

He pulled the last bullet out of Dudley's handgun, and carefully studied it. After memorizing exactly how it looked, he used his magic to replicate it, creating a new bullet. The new one was shimmering softly, almost glowing.

Harry placed this new bullet in the gun, and the old bullet back in the clip. He used his new found magical prowess to tie the two together. He didn't understand what he just did, but it felt right. He thought it would work, but he'd never heard of anyone doing it before.

_Only one way to find out._

Harry picked up the gun, and fired a shot at a tree. Harry's bullet impacted the tree, before a burst of light hurt his eyes. When he could see again, Harry noticed a phoenix burned into the wood.

"So, any ideas what the hell I just did?" Harry asked Fawkes.

"_I have a theory. I think you used your magic to allow that bullet to conjure another one, ready to be fired. Yes, thank you for proving it by shooting that thing again. Once more, yes. Thought so. Anyways, said bullet is comprised of your magic, which is the reason for the phoenix burns._

_As your magic is about as pure as one can get, darkness cannot stand them, at least I think so. In ordinary words, you enchanted your gun to conjure an unlimited supply of magic bullets that can kill any dark creature and will burn a phoenix into them. Cool huh?"_

Harry stared, again, at his new bird. He was completely bewildered, but figured he should do it to his Uncle's gun as well, because it sounded really cool. So he did. He sat there for a while, until he realized he still had the vampire's sword with him. He pulled it out, and looked at it.

Fawkes literally fell out of his tree when he saw the sword, but when Harry asked him about it, he refused to comment. Harry was slightly miffed by this, but figured he should ignore it. He looked at the sword, barely thinking about how the blade was shattered, instead looking at the ornate handle.

He noticed an elaborate D carved into it, but that was all. With nothing else to go on, he shrugged.

He was tired and confused, and he wanted to sleep. Fawkes turned concerned eyes on him, but he was already in dream land.

When Harry woke up, he still wasn't ready to feel as good as he did. _I can get used to this._ Then he felt his face, specifically his chin, rubbing the hairs that were poking out. He grinned. Facial hair! A right of passage in the man world. About time.

He looked around, then at himself. _Gross. I need a bath. Hello, magic._ Quickly conjuring up a nice bathtub, a lot of hot water, and some soap, he prepared himself for a long soak. Stepping out of his grimy clothes, he slipped into the tub, listening to the sounds of the forest around him.

After a while, Harry was clean and refreshed. He then conjured up a set of clothes for himself, jeans and a t-shirt, and put them on. He had miscalculated with his clothes, as they were sized for his old body, not his new one. They were extremely tight, but luckily stretched nicely.

Harry shrunk both of his guns and magically secured them to his pants, where they were disguised as ornamental things. Then he shrunk the sword and pocketed it. Running a hand through his recently washed hair, he started walking, unsure of where he was going. It just felt right.

He emerged on the outskirts of London not long after. It was late at night, but he had just slept, so he wasn't tired. Thinking back on his day, with all the craziness of it, he decided he needed a drink. Or ten.

After wandering around the city for a while, he noticed a door that was surrounded by wavy purple lines. _Must be a ward or something. Which means a magical pub. Sweet._

Harry strode towards the concealed door, before he felt the ward push on him. Harry reacted instinctively, and tried to hide. His magic responded, and the ward passed over him as he breathed a sigh of relief.

Walking inside, he was struck by the intensity of the place. Music was blasting from somewhere, and lights were flickering on and off in a rhythmic pattern. _A club then, not a pub. Whatever._ Harry saw a table that looked like the place for drinks. Walking up, he tried to ignore the looks he was receiving from several women he passed.

He ordered a firewhiskey when he reached the bar, and turned to watch the dancing. There were several beautiful ladies around, and he couldn't stop staring. Until he noticed a faint pink mist emanating from them. He watched as it ensnared a nearby man, who became enthralled by the woman.

_Hmm...Veela most likely. Just my luck, I somehow end up in a club filled with veela. You know, on paper, this sounds good, but it's not when your living it._

After recognizing the veela's magic, Harry had no problem ignoring them as well. Which seemed to entice them to try harder. Not that it mattered. Harry looked at his drink, before downing it in one gulp.

_Huh, I always heard this stuff burned on the way down. It's almost sweet. Tastes good, as a matter of fact. Hey, I'm not feeling anything, that's the whole purpose of this. Bugger. Maybe I need more._

"Hey, bartender, send over a bottle of the firewhiskey." The man did, and Harry paid him. Once again turning to look around, he noticed a man staring at him from a far corner. Harry just shrugged it off, before he took a sip straight from the bottle.

_God damnit. I'm still not feeling anything. Wait. Alcohol goes through blood right? Which probably means that something in my blood is counteracting it. There goes the idea of getting drunk. Still, only one way to find out if this is true._

Harry turned to the women, veela, actually, who had slid into the seat next to him, before he raised his bottle to her, said "Cheers." and downed the whole bottle in one go. Oblivious to the incredulous stares he was receiving, he ordered another bottle. The bartender simply gave it to him, and waved off payment.

Harry turned around, and was shocked to see a small crowd of people surrounding him.

"Who are you? And what are you? No one can drink an entire bottle of firewhiskey, especially not like that." A pretty blond girl asked him.

"Who am I?" _Can't give my real name, obviously. Hmm...well, all this shit's been happening because of some crazy stuff in my blood, so..._ "You can call me Blood. As for what I am, even I don't know."

"Why don't you come home with me, and I'll help you find out _exactly_ what you are." The pretty blond asked him, winking suggestively.

_Well, my purpose was to forget all the crap in my life, and maybe, this woman can help. Heh, _help_, is that what their calling it now?_

"Sounds like a plan, beautiful. Let me finish this up real quick." Harry did just that, downing another bottle in a few seconds, before he slammed it down on the table, and took the proffered arm of his new lady friend.

As he was walking towards the bar, the man from the far corner approached him.

"Mr. Blood, I am the owner of this place. In case you do not know, I am a vampire. What I am going to ask you is somewhat unusual, but you are unusual, no? Anyways, as a vampire, I like to sample different types of blood from different types of creatures. Only humans are susceptible to the transformation, so you are safe, and, as you said, you are a new type of creature. Please, indulge me with your blood."

Harry wasn't really thinking, focused on the rising and falling chest of his companion, but tore his eyes away to ask "If you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

"A fair question, I suppose. I am Dracula, king of the vampire nation."

"Well then, I would be honored to give you my blood, your majesty." Harry turned his head, giving easier access to his neck. Dracula took it, and bit into it. He drew blood for about five seconds, before he pulled away.

"Magnificent, I've never had anything so wonderful. Well, have a good evening."

"Say, did you say your name was Dracula?" At the vampires nod, Harry pulled out the sword, and unshrunk it. He handed it to Dracula, who was gaping at Harry.

"I think this belongs to you. Well, have a good night." Harry quickly left the club, following the lead of his new blond friend.

He wasn't around the notice the hush that fell over the club at the sight of the broken sword, nor the pained look on Dracula's face.

He also wasn't around when Dracula turned rigid, and fell to the ground, dead.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had just walked into his office at the start of the next day, and then he received a summons to his bosses office. _God, it's so damn early._

Yawning, he made his way around the cubicles and into Bones' office. He was taken aback by the grim look of his boss, but he waited patiently for an explanation. He didn't have to wait long.

"Shacklebolt, I'm going to need you to come with me on a case." He was surprised by this, as Amelia hadn't worked a case in years. This had to be huge.

"You're probably wondering why I'm going. There is a very good reason. We have three dead bodies on our hands, one werewolf, and two vampires. Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal, but...well. It's who these people are that is important.

The werewolf was Fenrir Greyback, You-Know-Who's lead wolf. One vampire is Dracula, and the other is his son. That's all we know, besides the location of the bodies. Get your best squad ready, I somehow get the feeling that these are linked somehow."

Shacklebolt stared for a minute, before he mentally kicked himself. He walked briskly into the staging area, and assembled his squad, which consisted of Tonks and Dawlish. Dawlish, many flaws aside, was very, very good at recognizing magical residue, which was handy in determining what happened at a magical crime scene.

Tonks, well, Tonks was Tonks. She needed experience, but youth and another opinion was always nice.

So he yelled out for them, and they met Amelia at the fireplace, and flooed into London, then strode into a forest. They came upon the body of Mikalov, Dracula's son. Dawlish quickly pulled out his wand, and began waving it and murmuring to himself.

After a while, he stood up, and looked at his boss, and his boss's boss.

Clearing his throat, he said "This is, well, interesting. It's damn hard to kill a vampire, and the best way is damn near impossible. But that's exactly what happened. You can't tell, but he died from chunks of white oak embedded in his heart."

"How did that happen, I don't see a wound." Tonks asked, still looking at the cold body.

"I have an idea, but I'll know for sure soon. Gimme a sec'. Ah, see there? I've cut open his chest, you can see the wood in his heart."

Amelia looked on with interest, and asked "Well, how the bloody hell did this happen?"

"Ma'am, another theory, hard to confirm, but based on some residual magic scans, I think I know what happened. See, this guy was poisoned with a dilute amount of basilisk venom." Gasps where heard at this statement. "Now, this venom won't kill a vampire, but it does hurt a lot, and slows them down. So, I think that the killer somehow gave the vampire the venom, than tore open his chest, and implanted wood splinters there. He then let the vampires natural healing force the splinters into his heart."

"Who would do such a thing? Such a painful way to die. Let's hold off theories until we've seen the other bodies." Amelia said, wondering to herself what the hell was going on.

The group quickly made their way over towards the body of Greyback, and were surprised to see a smoking hole in his chest.

"What could do this to a werewolf?" Kingsley wondered aloud.

"Well, there are stories about cursed silver, which vampires use to make their weapons. It's supposed to by the ultimate weapon against werewolves, but I thought it was just a myth." Tonks stated.

"I found trace amounts of basilisk venom in him as well. Same style as the vamp." Dawlish related.

"So, it looks like our killer somehow captured and sedated Fenrir, then killed him with a vampire sword. Wait, are those pieces of metal still in him?" Amelia said.

"Uh, yeah, I think so." Here, Kingsley pulled out a shard of glittering metal. "I think Tonks was right. This could be cursed silver. But it's supposed to be almost impossible to break, so what gives?"

"Yet another mystery about our murderer. We'll ask him when we catch him." Amelia confidently stated. "Well, lets move onto the last scene, that one has some witnesses we can question, that should help."

A short time later, they arrived at the club where Dracula had been murdered. It happened to be called Dracula's Den. The group wandered over to the body, but what they found was an emancipated corpse, one that was mostly bone.

"Oh Merlin, what the hell happened?" Tonks asked, desperately trying to hold onto her breakfast.

"Same thing as the others, basilisk venom was used. Looks like a signature or something. Beyond that, I have no idea." Dawlish quietly said.

Amelia was already moving to question a group of people that some aurors were detaining.

"So, who wants to tell me what happened here?"

One girl stood up, and said "Well, it started when a new guy came in, and what a guy, anyways, this guy walks in like he owns the place, looks at all the women around, then ignores them, I mean, really, ignoring me? Anyways, he orders a drink, downs it, then downs an entire bottle of firewhiskey in one go, I mean, what the hell? He looks a little disappointed at this point, orders another bottle, and finishes it quicker than the last.

Then some blond whore makes a move on this guy, using all her veela powers to ensnare him, and it actually works. Bitch. Then, they start making their way over to the exit, but the owner of the place, Dracula, stops them, and does his usual thing. What I mean is, he asks for blood in payment, instead of money.

As this is a club for magical creatures, no one gets turned or anything, and it keeps him from having to go out and hunt things. It works out well. Anyways, this guy agrees, and lets Drac suck on his neck for a bit, then when Dracula's done, he looks like he remembered something. So he pulls out this broken sword, and hands it to the big vamp himself."

Here, a pale, gaunt man interjected "Now, this is a secret kept by the vampires, but, well, I think you need to know. The sword he gave him was the Heir's blade. It's made out of cursed silver, but that's not the point. It's mostly symbolic. The one who carries it is the next leader of the vampire clans. I looked into the legend a bit, and discovered something interesting.

It says that the only way to protest the naming of the heir is to kill him, and take the sword. However, if one is to shatter the sword, one is saying that the leadership of the current vampire is now broken. It is about the biggest insult one can give to a leader. It usually results in a fight to the death."  
Another woman picked up the tale. "Well, after Blood, that's the guy's name, by the way, gave the sword to Dracula, he just strides out of the place, cool as you please. Drac is just standing there, staring at the sword, before he starts to convulse, like a fit or something. Maybe five minutes later, smoke starts to rise from his body, and he stops moving. Then his body seems to age right in front of us, until it ended up like that."

"You said the guy's name was Blood, right? Any reason?" Amelia asked quickly.

"He didn't give one, no. Maybe his name was to show how he was going to kill Drac?"

"An interesting theory, no doubt. Well, thank you for your time. Wait, one last question. You said he went home with another woman, what was her name, where does she live?"

"Oh, her names Allyson, she lives about a block west of here, in a big white building. Don't know more than that."

"Thank you for your time." Amelia made her way back over to Dawlish, who was feverishly waving his wand over the body. "What have you got for me?"

Dawlish looked up. "I think I know what killed him. As you can see from the corpse, the mutagen that keeps a vampire from aging was destroyed. That resulted in the rapid aging that other's saw. His body caught up with his real age in a matter of minutes. Probably very painful. As to what caused it? I think it was phoenix tears, but I'm not sure."

Amelia looked at him, disbelief etched across her face. "He was killed with phoenix tears? That's new, and slightly impressive."

Shacklebolt was standing, talking in a low voice with Tonks, before Amelia cleared her throat. "I've got a lead on our murderer. He's calling himself Blood, seems to represent how he killed this guy. That's how he did it, gave Dracula some of his blood. Anyways, he went home with a girl, she lives a block from here. If we move quickly, he might still be there."

Harry awoke to find himself spooned up against a warm body. He almost panicked, until he remembered last night. A smile crept across his face as he remembered. It was the most fun he had ever had, even if he just met the girl. Also, Fawkes failed to mention several aspects of his close encounters with vampires and werewolves.

It turned out that he had the sexual stamina of a werewolf, that is to say, almost unlimited, and the prowess of a vampire. Harry simply did things on instinct, but he thought Ally enjoyed it. His smile grew bigger. _Oh, she certainly enjoyed it. I'm sure everyone in this building knows that._ Still, he had things to do today, so he had to get moving.

Slowly extracting himself, he realized that he had destroyed his clothes in last nights passion. Sighing, he once again conjured up a new pair, which were still too tight, and then took a short shower. Putting on his clothes, he made his way into the kitchen. He had long ago realized that he enjoyed cooking when it wasn't forced on him, so he made a large breakfast, far to large, really, but he made it all the same.

He wrote a short note, explaining that he had to leave, and hoped Allyson would understand. He thought she would, they had agreed on a one night thing. Finished, he made his way out the door and down the stairs. As he was leaving the building, he noticed a group of four people were making their way up the street.

"Ah, Madam Bones. You should probably put on a coat, we wouldn't want the Head of the Aurors to freeze to death, now would we? Well, good day. Tonks, you look lovely as always." With a flirty wink, he sauntered off, leaving a confused Madam Bones, and a grinning Tonks behind.

Amelia was still confused when they called for the manager of the apartment complex. Tonks' grin was even broader, and Kingsley and Dawlish just looked bored. When the manager arrived, Amelia gave herself a mental shake, and asked "What room does Allyson live in?"

The manager looked annoyed, and said "She lives in 514, you guys here about the disturbance claims that we made?"

"Uh, no. Why don't you explain."

"Well, see, everyone here knows that Allyson is a veela, so we all got used to her parading new guys up to her room, and we aren't really surprised to hear, ah..., thumping and moaning, if you get my drift. But last night, it just wouldn't stop. She must have had a squadron of men up there, the sounds went on all night, without any breaks."

Tonks started giggling halfway through this, and Madam Bones looked faintly disgusted. She thanked the man, and the group made their way to room 514.

Kingsley knocked on the door, but no one responded. He called out, to no response. The group of four looked at each other, and nodded as one. Tonks opened the door, and Kingsley and Dawlish barged in, wands drawn. There was nothing out of place, nothing wrong. The group looked surprised, before spreading out.

Tonks gave a sound of alarm from the kitchen. The other three came running in, to see Tonks standing at the table, which was set for four people, with a note in her hand.

"Tonks, what's wrong?"

Tonks simply handed Amelia the note, before sinking into a seat.

The note read:

_I'm sorry I couldn't stay any longer, but I have things to do. I must say, last night was a lot of fun all around. It helped me work through some grief and pain in my life, and I don't regret a thing. Well, I made enough breakfast for four, just in case someone decides to drop by and visit. Toodles._

Amelia looked at the note, before shaking her head. It seemed so innocent, but there had to be another meaning to it. Then she paled as realization sunk in. _'Breakfast for four, in case someone stops by'_. Oh Merlin, he was expecting them. And the food was still warm, so they hadn't missed him by much. She paled even further.

"Tonks, do you think that guy we passed on our way in here was Blood?"

Tonks looked up, before she blanched. "Oh my god, I think you're right. Oh shit, remember what he said? _I hope you don't freeze to death?_ That's almost a death threat, oh fuck."

Everyone shuddered at this. They all looked up when the heard footsteps coming towards the kitchen. Allyson walked in, only a night robe on. Kingsley and Dawlish reddened at the spectacle. Allyson frowned.

"Mind telling me what you're doing in my kitchen?"

"Ah, sorry about that. DMLE, we were here about a man calling himself Blood."

Here, Allyson snorted. "Should call himself stallion, that fits him a lot better."

Tonks giggled, and Amelia simply shook her head.

"What do you know about the guy?"

"Well, he walked into the club all by himself, and ignored everyone, even all the veelas in there. And they were hitting him with there powers full blast, he should have been putty in our hands, but he just ignored us all. That in and of itself made everyone try harder. And I won." Here, she smiled.

"What about Dracula, towards the end of the night?"

"Oh, yeah, Drac did his usual thing with newcomers, the whole bloodsucking deal. Blood didn't seem surprised, just went with it. Then he gave him a broken sword, and we left."

"Thank you. So, what do you think about this note?" Here, Amelia handed the half naked veela woman Harry's note, and Allyson smirked.

"I think he was expecting you. See, I had enough to eat last night to keep me fed for a _long_ time" The men in the room blushed at the innuendo, and Ally continued. "And he made enough for four, and there are four of you."

"Right, well, uh, thanks, I guess. We'll just be off then, paperwork, you see."

The four left the building via floo, and quickly locked themselves in a conference room. Amelia started it off by asking "So, what the hell is going on?"

Dawlish answered "I think he's trying to send a message. This stuff can't be coincidence. He needed the Heir's blade, so he had to kill Mikalov, but he tortured the location of Dracula out of him first. Then, he killed You-Know-Who's lead wolf with it, but shattered it in the process, that can't have been accidental. Then he killed Dracula and gave him the broken sword.

Now, what I think he's saying is this. He's saying, if you work with You-Know-Who (which Dracula and Mikalov where doing), then you are forfeit to life and the throne. By shattering the sword in Greyback, he clearly said anyone who works for You-Know-Who is going to die. Then he destablized the vampire nation and the werewolf nation, forcing them to choose new leaders. He's saying that the new leaders should not side with You-Know-Who, or else they die."

Silence met this statement, while the others nodded to themselves.

"Yes, I think that is the most likely explanation. What worries me more though, is how he killed them. He obviously has a supply of basilisk venom, which is almost impossible nowadays, but he also killed someone with phoenix tears. How the hell is that possible? We are dealing with someone who is dangerous, creative, and willing to go to any lengths to make a point." Amelia quietly said, thinking out loud.

Tonks smiled, and said "Not to mention he had sex for six hours straight with a veela."


End file.
